by Siegel, Alex
"This is it," Iris said. "I want our most sophisticated tracking device attached and twenty-four hour surveillance. The enemy could come back at any time."
"Yes, ma'am," Laurence said. "I'll get some of the Warriors over here right away. On that topic, the second team has arrived. Do you want to speak to them in person?"
She pursed her lips. She rarely spoke to her underlings directly, particularly those who might be captured by the enemy. It was safer if they didn't know her face.
"No," she said. "I'll hide and watch as usual. You do the talking."
"I'll make the arrangements." He took out his phone.
* * *
Marina looked at the expensive furnishings in the Italian restaurant on the ground floor of the Rosemont Tower Hotel. Everything was made of brass, dark wood, and black leather. Opera music played softly in the background. Nice, she thought. She and Aaron sat at the table nearest the door.
A waitress rushed over and gave them both menus. The young woman kept glancing fearfully at Aaron.
After she left, Marina said, "You still have civilians here?"
"Some of the hotel staff stayed to help out," Aaron said. "Wesley made them assistants in the Society so it would be official."
"He does a lot of that sort of thing."
"Yes. It's irritating. Now that we're Lord and Lady, we can probably tell him to stop."
They quickly made their selections and called the waitress back over. They were in a hurry. Marina ordered Fettucine Alfredo, and Aaron ordered a sausage and pepper dish. The waitress took their order straight to the kitchen.
"I keep hearing about a meeting this evening," Marina said.
Aaron blanched. "Yes. The entire Society is gathering in the main ballroom. I guess I'm supposed to speak to them as their supreme leader."
"You? But you have stage fright."
"Thanks for reminding me."
She reached across the table and held his hand. "You're terrified."
"I think I'm going to throw up, and I haven't even eaten."
"Just relax. You'll survive."
"You haven't met the other legates," he said. "I have."
"They won't kill you. They wouldn't dare."
He didn't look so confident.
She gave him an encouraging smile. "I'll be there. Just look at me if you need a little support."
"OK. Tell me about this mission in San Francisco. I'm curious."
"Some person named the Goddess is creating spectacular illusions of angels. They've been flying over popular tourist spots."
"Why?" He furrowed his brow.
"Unclear, but they told people to jump off the Golden Gate Bridge. It was supposedly a shortcut to Heaven."
"Did people jump?"
"Six hundred and fifty," she said.
He grimaced. "There is no shortage of stupidity. You don't know the underlying motive?"
"Not a clue."
"In a way, it reminds me of the cannibal thing. Mass murder with a secret agenda."
She stared at him. "That's interesting."
They didn't speak any more during the meal. Both of them had a lot to think about, and they knew quiet time was a luxury to be cherished. Just being together was enough.
They were cleaning their plates when Aaron said, "When all this is over, we have to make some decisions. How are we going to run the Society? Will we keep the existing structure or reorganize? Should we stick with small, isolated cells or go for bigger teams?"
"I don't know." Marina raised her eyebrows. "It never occurred to me that we can make those kinds of changes. Maybe we should talk to God about it. We work directly for Him now."
"Later. Let's get through the current set of crises first." He stood up. "Come on. We need to supervise and manage. A lot of stuff has to happen tonight, and we can't afford any delays."
She followed him out of the restaurant.
* * *
Min Ho pointed at a brown van. "There it is."
Jia nodded. "I see it."
She was driving a car through the parking lot of the executive terminal at San Francisco Airport. Night had fallen, but tall street lamps provided plenty of light. Min Ho and Jia needed the light to find the van in the sea of other vehicles.
She parked near the van but left the engine running. He hopped out and pulled a key from his pocket. They had just made the key using a pattern from a computer file. The team kept detailed records about all its vehicles including how to make spare keys.
While Min Ho opened the door of the van, Jia looked around. She didn't see any witnesses nearby. People were walking to and from the terminal, but they weren't facing her direction.
Min Ho sat in the van and started the engine. After checking for suspicious activity one last time, Jia drove off and he followed. Home was just twenty minutes away, but to be safe, they would take the long way around and watch for a tail.
* * *
Laurence's phone buzzed.
Iris looked over at him. "Anything important?"
He read a message on his screen. "Very, ma'am. A short, skinny Asian man just drove off in the brown van. He had a wild hair-do and was loudly dressed. The tracking device is working, and our men are following at a distance."
She cocked her head. "Nobody with that description was in the Milwaukee group."
"He could still be a member of the Society."
"We'll find out when he gets to his destination. If we're lucky, we could finish this operation tonight. That would be fantastic." She peeked through a crack in a black curtain. "You're on."
They were backstage in a community theater which normally hosted plays and small concerts. Dimly lit theatrical sets and props surrounded Iris and Laurence. A king's throne was next to a dining room table. A backdrop showed a cityscape at night.
Iris found the environment very familiar. She had worked as a professional stage magician at one point in her life. She had spent many nights in similar theaters and had fond memories. Eventually, she had discovered slight-of-hand and illusion could be used to commit very profitable crimes.
There was no show tonight. Instead, Iris was using the theater for a presentation to a very unusual audience.
Laurence left the backstage area and walked out to stand in the spotlights. He was wearing a black tuxedo, a black cape, and a top hat. It looked like a costume from the Victorian era, but he considered himself to be at the height of fashion.
"Gentlemen," he said, "welcome to San Francisco."
Iris took another peek through the curtain. The audience consisted of about sixty men, all roughly dressed. They were in their twenties and thirties. Many had scars, and at least two were missing part of an ear. She made sure the light didn't hit her face.
They were members of the Circassian Democratic Front, a violent separatist group. She had imported them from Russia. They were desperate to fund their failing insurgency and would do anything for cash, even if it meant killing strangers in a foreign land.
"As stated previously," Laurence said, "each of you will receive a five thousand dollar signing bonus plus three thousand per day, starting immediately. We paid for your travel. We will also supply you with weapons, ammunition, clothing, armor, radios, cars, and any other accoutrements you might need. Those items are yours to keep, but getting them back to Circassia is your problem. You can pick up your equipment as you leave the theater."
Iris smirked at the relatively low pay. She would've gladly paid the Circassians ten times as much. The reward she would receive for killing Olivia was literally priceless.
Laurence continued, "You'll be working with some other gentlemen, the Warriors of Dagda. Try not to talk to them. They don't have much to say which is of any interest. They are stout fighters though. This is the last time you'll see me. From now on, you'll receive your orders through the radio. The technology is very special. The enemy won't be able to trace the signal."
"Who is the enemy?" a man called out in a thick Russian accent.
He seem
ed to be the leader of the Circassians. He had black hair and hazel eyes. Iris stared at him until she had a solid lock and could borrow those eyes in the future.
"That's none of your business," Laurence said. "Just follow orders. If the operation is successful, all survivors will receive a twenty thousand dollar bonus. You may see action tonight, so you can wait here or go find a bite to eat, but keep your radios with you at all times. When we give the order, we'll expect you to move immediately. That's all."
Laurence walked off and met Iris backstage. They left quietly through a rear exit. They had to walk several blocks through San Francisco to reach the car.
"Where is the brown van now?" she said.
He used his phone to exchange messages with the men at the airport. "Headed west."
"Remind them to send the kill signal to the tracking device as soon as the van seems to reach its destination. We don't want that thing transmitting a moment longer than necessary. The Society might detect it."
"Yes, ma'am."
Iris took a deep breath of cool moist air. City lights and the sounds of traffic surrounded her. After a rough start, it was turning out to be a good night after all. Olivia might not see another dawn.
* * *
The frantic activity in the Chicago headquarters amazed Marina. The aperture project was being packed up in preparation for its move to Chinatown. Fifteen scientists and thirty legionnaires were dashing through the cluttered space. Bethany and Leanna were overseeing the effort, and they were moving even faster as they tried to be everywhere at once. Their clothes were stained with sweat.
Marina turned to Aaron and squeezed his hand. He responded with a gentle kiss on the lips. Being married to him was the greatest joy she could remember. They could finally have the life they had always wanted, and nobody could tell them otherwise.
"It's convenient you had a second headquarters," she said.
"Yes," he said, "very. A lot of convenient things happened today. Wesley talks about fate all the time, but I usually don't buy it. In this case, it's hard to be a skeptic. Decisions I made a long time ago for different reasons are bearing fruit now in surprising ways. When we first met Wesley, we had a conversation with him at breakfast. He seemed to recognize us for the first time. Do you remember what he said?"
She scrunched up her face. "Um. I think he called us the 'Lovers' as if it was a title."
"That's right. He knew even back then."
"I think we're still missing a big part of the story."
He nodded. "I'm sure you're right."
They watched the chaos for a moment. One legionnaire tripped over a power cord and almost fell with a heavy box in his hands. His strength and agility barely saved him.
The "movers" were using bed sheets, garbage bags, suitcases, wadded up newspapers, and even some clothes as packing materials. Mattresses and ropes protected the bigger items. In the case of the aperture, there was an elaborate steel frame with springs and pistons to absorb shocks.
"I had a short conversation with the twins," Marina said. "They told me the new firewall will be very effective. We might have one mission every five years on the entire Earth."
Aaron grunted. "Sounds like life in the Society will get kind of boring."
"Yes, and the firewall will get smarter. The twins' minds will be part of it, and they'll learn on the job. They told me the rate will drop to once every ten years, then once every hundred, then once every thousand. We could have generations of legionnaires who never fight. The Gray Spear Society will eventually seem pointless and irrelevant. When something does happen, we won't be ready. Imagine trying to command a mission when you've never actually done one before."
The problem seemed insurmountable to her. Legionnaires needed real combat experience to be effective. Even a lifetime of training could get them only so far.
Aaron nodded. "I'm sure somebody thought about this. Everything has been carefully planned so far. It's hard to imagine God or the twins would let this obvious issue slip through their fingers."
"I don't know how to solve it," Marina said. "How do you construct an organization that can lay dormant for generations and then be immediately ready for battle when the time comes? How do you preserve secret knowledge for hundreds or even thousands of years?"
He shrugged. "Good question."
He took out his phone and made a call. She waited politely for him to finish. Finally, he hung up.
Marina looked at him. "What's up?"
"The assistants in Washington are trying to identify who shot down the legate's jet. It seems an advanced technology called 'Black Owls' was used."
"What?" She stared at Aaron. "Her jet was shot down? Is she all right?!"
"I guess you didn't hear. She's fine. She wasn't flying at the time, but the Washington commander and his legionnaires were onboard. All were lost. Our first casualties in the war."
She gulped. She had met the Washington commander during the convention a year ago. The news of his demise was very troubling.
"That's not all," Aaron said. "The people who tried to kill the President called themselves the Corners of Freedom. We killed four and thought we were done. It turns out there is a fifth, and he's still on the loose."
She shook her head. "There is a lot going on."
He nodded.
Wesley walked up to them. A broad smile on the boy's perfect face made him seem angelic. He had trimmed his brown hair. He was wearing the formal gray robes of a legate, and they looked inappropriate for a kid, but Marina didn't comment.
"You look nice," Aaron said.
"I want to make a good impression when everybody sees me. I'll go first. I'll make the introductions, and then you can talk."
Aaron blanched. He was obviously still terrified at the prospect of speaking to the Society. Marina kept a straight face but thought his situation was funny. He had accomplished so much and had killed so many people, but standing in front of a crowd was his weakness.
"I have a question," she said. "After the new firewall is in place, life in the Society will be very quiet. Too quiet. How are we going to stay sharp and ready to fight?"
Wesley nodded. "That's a very perceptive question. The twins came up with a brilliant solution."
"Which is?"
"You'll find out after we move to Chinatown. I'll tell everybody there at once."
She stared. "Another secret?"
"The craziest of all."
"Will I like it?" She was deeply suspicious.
"I don't know," he said. "I'll only say that the twins' solution is radical. Even I barely believe it's really possible. When I explain, you'll think I'm making it up."
Aaron frowned.
"Which reminds me," Wesley said. "The aperture will be open for only ten minutes, and it will never open again. Aaron, you need to be there."
"But I'll be here, fighting the good fight."
"Listen, the right people need to be present when the aperture is open, and that list includes you two most of all. We'll have a big problem if you miss that appointment."
Aaron raised his eyebrows. "The 'right' people? Does this have something to do with the twins' radical solution and the craziest secret of all?"
"Exactly." Wesley grinned. "Nothing gets by you. It's time to go downstairs."
Aaron swallowed. "Can't we just wait a couple more minutes?"
"No. It's just fear. You'll survive."
Aaron took a deep breath and yelled, "The meeting is now! I need everybody to go to the ballroom immediately! Stop what you're doing."
The commotion stopped. The scientists and legionnaires headed towards the elevator, but Bethany and Leanna kept working.
"You, too," Wesley said firmly.
"But we have so much work to do!" Bethany said.
"It can wait. This is a big deal. We're all going."
She nodded. "OK."
Aaron took Marina's hand, and his palm was sweaty. She gave him an encouraging smile and led him away.
Chapt
er Fourteen
Jia parked her car under the big white tent behind headquarters. She watched Min Ho pull up next to her in the van.
Both hackers got out. The night was cool and damp, and Jia wished she had brought a sweater. Fortunately, she wouldn't be outside for long.
Min Ho opened the back of the van and took out a computer. It looked like a standard, rack-mounted unit. Jia didn't see anything dangerous about it, but she knew looks could deceive. During her time in the Society, she had encountered all kinds of nasty tricks from exploding disk drives to intelligent computer viruses.
They walked quickly around to the front door. Dark hills surrounded headquarters on three sides, and they reminded Jia of sleeping giants. She sometimes worried they would wake up and squash her.
She and Min Ho didn't speak to each other. After working together for so long, there was nothing left to say. She admired his brilliance as a computer hacker, but when it came to non-technical subjects, he was on shakier ground. He was completely clueless about women. His choices in clothing were consistently ridiculous. His views on politics and popular culture were peculiar to put it mildly. She considered him a dear friend, but that didn't mean she wanted to hear his opinions.
They walked into the white entry chamber. Imelda was in the security booth, and she was frowning.
"Problem?" Min Ho said.
"When you were driving in," she said, "the security system picked up a weak, erratic radio signal. It seemed to be coming from the van, but after you parked, it stopped."
"Maybe it was a reflection from another source."
"I have no idea. You're the technical guy. Did you make sure you weren't followed?"
"Of course," he said. "We circled around and watched for a tail like always. I'd better come into the booth and take a look. Jia, can you please grab a detector and check the van?"
Jia frowned at the idea of going back into the chilly night, but duty came before comfort. "OK."
Imelda buzzed Min Ho and Jia into the main part of headquarters. Jia went for a jacket first before she looked for the detector.
While she was pulling on the jacket, Olivia ran over. The little girl was wearing a green outfit with pink unicorns on her chest. Plastic rings with plastic jewels decorated her fingers. Jia crouched down and gave Olivia a hug.